Page 99 of Small Town Hunter

“Do we really need it?”

“Need what? The condom?” He grips the tip like he wants to rip it off at the very suggestion. He shudders. “That depends if you want to get pregnant.”

“Would it feel better if we didn’t have it?” I want to make him feel good.

“Of course. To fuck you bare the first time…You’re a virgin. You might not even take.” He strokes my stomach, eyes hungry. “But then maybe you would.”

“Would you marry me if I had your son?”

“You’re pushing it, girlie.” He shakes his head as if to throw off a dangerous thought. Maybe the same thought pulsing through my brain. Why did I even say that?

“Why did you say that?” He mutters.

“I was just thinking it.”

“Well, now I’m thinking it.” He grabs his covered dick and positions it at my opening. This is what I’ve always heard is sinful, dirty. It feels nothing of the sort. It feels like an old rhythm of life. Will I go to hell for this? Do birds go to hell for singing?

He moves forward a little. I clench instinctively, everywhere.

He strokes my thigh. “Relax, darlin’.”

“Can you kiss me?” I plead.

My heart hammers so hard its making me dizzy and blind. Our lips connect, his claiming, mine yielding. I can tell he’s forcing himself to hold back.

“You’re gonna be tight,” he says. “Your body’s going to resist me. That’s natural because you’ve never had a man. It feels really good — for me— when you’re tight on me like that.”

“I want you to feel good,” I whisper.

“Your pleasure is my pleasure. It’s going to hurt but then it’s going to feel good for you too, I promise.”

I hold onto his shoulders. “I trust you.”

His hip flexes.

The unbearable pressure between my legs builds and builds with no release. But I look up into Crash’s face and remember him laughing with me over that giant mango margarita and beating up the biker and telling me I could do anything.

“Babe,” he groans, dropping his head. He’s never called me that. “You gotta let me in.” The pressure becomes pain. A flicker of sparks in my vision. I bite my lip hard. “Open for me, open honey…yes…Oh.”

I love you.

He falls over me on the bed, bracing on his forearms. The muscles bulge around my head. I jump and try to move away but he drills deeper, pinning me to the mattress.

“Good girl,” he breathes.

I kiss his neck, letting him know I’m okay. It hurts a lot but already the pain’s fading…replaced with something far, far more intense.

Crash punches with his hips, finding his way deeper and deeper. All the way to my heart. I grab his back, feeling the pits of old scars and the strength in his huge body.

He’s embedded inside me.

“You can take me good, I know it. You were made for me, Trina — it doesn’t hurt?”

“No!”

He moves again…

Deeper — deeper…

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